


Stitches

by Hermonthis



Category: Storm Hawks
Genre: Gen, Origin Story, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermonthis/pseuds/Hermonthis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dark Ace origin story. It's the people around you who will affect what you will become.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. holding onto your cards

**Author's Note:**

> Lightning Strike's name was changed in this story. Minor revisions made in late 2014.

  
_Oh, Gabriel, let me blow your horn. Let me blow your horn_  
 _Oh, I never did, did no harm._ (Led Zeppelin, "In My Time of Dying")  


  


He was the top student in his class to graduate from the Academy on Terra Atmosia. As he stood in line amongst his school mates, a continuous row of teenagers all wearing the same blue flight suit, his black hair and red eyes separated his appearance from the rest. Altough he was behind the stage, he stood proudly in line with his chin held up high, and listened carefully to the audience for familiar voices. Behind him, a common boy with a common name urged him to take another step closer to the stage. They were sweating underneath the hot June sun and eager to seek relief underneath the festive blue tents on campus grounds. 

"Hey, did your parents make it?" The girl behind the boy whispered, her pink hair fell over her face as her feet shuffled forward to prevent any idiots from taking her well earned spot. Lessons were over, exams were done, and now after four years of training they were ready to receive their diplomas and start their new lives as members of the Sky Knight organization. Parents, siblings, family friends, and grandparents made up part of the audience, all seated in their simple aluminum chairs, but for the Cyclonian, there was no one to celebrate for him.

"And we want to thank the teachers, staff, and students for making this a wonderful year!" The student body groaned in unison. Everyone knew the headmaster was a talker, including the man himself. All campus assemblies started off with one of his cheesy speeches, and while they usually tolerated it for the sake of being courteous, for once they would love it if he just shut up.

"No," the boy admitted. "They couldn't get passes to attend the graduation."

The girl with the cotton candy hair offered her brief condolences before she disappeared back into the blue line.

The top student in the Academy was also the only native-born Cyclonian. His parents would not be in the audience because of high tensions regarding differing political structures and ideals between Terra Cyclonia and the general Atmos. They were the largest piece of earth with the highest untapped reserves of unrefined crystals, and the damn monarchy didn't want to share candy with his friends. There was a lot of bullying on both sides, and the students at the Academy even had lessons on the situation.

Depression was upon them. Seven years ago there was an earthquake that destroyed several minor terras which also resulted in the increased presence of lava beasts from The Wastelands. Terra Cyclonia, being so close to the boiling ground, suffered economically when surrounding terras deemed air travel too dangerous for their ships and starved the people. The monarch protested their misguided fears, he said no land was safer from the monsters than his, and showed them seven hundred years of history to prove it. Once upon a time, all the lands of Atmos were under the rule of his ancestors, buried underneath forgotten epochs when terras used to drift aimlessly and public travel was impossible.

Grudges amongst the old drifted down to the young. The resentment was raised three bars higher when the Master declared he would send no more youths to the Council to train as Sky Knights. For the past two years no Cyclonian graduate was given a proper place in a squadron and their talent was left to waste. It was an insult to their people. There were untouched mountains on their land full of crystals, but no terra wanted the glittering stones regardless of their value.

"Fine," Master Cyclonis declared. "If no one will listen to us, if no one will help us - then we turn our backs on you." He summoned all his people to return to their homeland, to forget about the friends who were preoccupied with their own affairs and help him their nation. Families came and left him in storms. Those who businesses suffered as a result of prejudice boarded Cyclonian-funded airships and made for the trek home. There, they learned with bitterness how they were betrayed. The Sky Council vetoed their standing position and would no longer protect any of their students.  
It's a fact the future is held in the hands of the children. And Cyclonia's young were abandoned.

Whether it was a conscious decision to cut back on expenses, academies started shutting down everywhere. Sky Knights scrounged for new capable recuits as the white-capped river trickled down into an insufficient stream. Extrance exams became harder, students were turned away, and all this time Terra Cyclonia had no one to protect them.

And Master Cyclonis sat on his throne and spoke again. If the Council would not protect them, then he would create a new military himself, an institute where the young can belong regardless of gender, and find a place in service. He ordered factories built, raised the percentage of employment by thirty percent, and created the Talons.

But there were families who longed for the return of the Sky Knights and the days when passports weren't needed to travel to distant terras. One of those families, two parents with a single boy, sent their son to live off the mainland to fulfill his dream of joining a squadron. His grandfather served as a pilot once, he met his lifelong partner that way, and filled his grandson's head with tales of respect and adventure.

Fairy tales didn't last very long once a child grew up. Now, that boy was a proud young man and eager to receive his diploma, to see his name stamped on the walls of the last remaining campus that took in potential Sky Knights and their crew. One last hope.

Four years study abroad with the occasional return trip back hime. It was ridiculous, he concluded, for terras so close together to hold such animosity between them. If transportation rules weren't so strict, he could hitch a ride on a public airship and go home that way. However, that wasn't the case. Routes were less frequent and a lone traveller was either brave or foolish to embark on a journey to Cyclonia.

Sometimes, his method of transport was downright illegal. In fact, during the last week-long holiday on campus, that's exactly what he did. He stowed away on a fishing ship headed towards Terra Aquinos and came back knowing the exact layout of three other ships. One after another, he hitched a ride just to say hello back home.

After the graduation ceremony, the nineteen students were let loose on campus grounds. The festivities were all held outdoors following the school's long standing tradition.  
Someone clapped him on the back. He turned his head around and saw his History instructor. "Always expected the best from you, and now you've finally earned it."

"Thank you, sir." The silver-and-gray haired man led him towards the buffed table and helped himself to an egg tart. The chef may be famous for his pot roast, but his assistant was equally well-known for her desserts. Bringing the flaky pastry to his mouth, he licked his lips and tried to maintain decorum as tasty crumbs flew out of his mouth and littered the ground.

"Do you want one?"

"No, thanks."

He wasn't hungry for food at the moment and it was guaranteed there was always more just in case the ravenous crowds wanted more. Aside from the blinding flashes oflights as parents took photos of their grown-up children, he kept wandering amongst the masses looking for someone in particular.

"'Ave you zeen ze Rebel Ducks?" A young lady with black hair approached him and he recognized her as a hopeful recruit for Terra Gale. She was a pretty, slender thing and a serious competitor in academic standing. However, it was her pacifist attitude that would never secure her a place as a Sky Knight. Sticking out his thumb, he pointed towards the group behind him. The telltale accent of his schoolmate's homeland was just too noticeable.

The party this year, he gleaned from a huddling group of instructors, had a lower budget compared to the previous group of graduates last year. There was talk about more terras becoming disenchanted with the Sky Council and more squadrons were getting lost in the storms. Inhabitants on Terra Xerxess recorded sightings of Talons flying above, and the Master's recent acquisition of a major motorcycle manufacturer was Atmosia's loss.

"They're called Switchblades. Quicker to produce in mass quantities."

"Don't forge we've got better machines. We have the Sky Knights."

"Sure. Look at the group of apprentices we churned out this year."

"Was that supposed to be sarcasm?"

Unhappy with the political talk, the youth with red eyes continued forward. The group of his choice wasn't present, a squadron with less than ten years of experience but proved themselves to be worth something - the Storm Hawks. He wanted to go on _The Condor_ more than anything else, be part of their rising legacy, Cyclonian or not.

Regrettably, not many official squadrons made an appearance tonight. Only a handful of Sky Knights and their teams arrived in time for the ceremonies while the rest were held up by conflicting missions. Selecting new recruits was a ritual that could last for several months. The actual probation period was two weeks, starting from the moment a team member made a connection with a graduate. Most of the time the agreements worked out, but all former students dreaded the waiting time.

In the youth's cynical eyes, today's scheduled festivities was a marketplace where pilots chose potential successors; mechanics tested the cream of the crop by timing how fast they could take apart and repair one of the school's standard sky rides.

Opportunity came that evening when the common boy with the common name nudged him an elbow between the ribs and relayed a message - someone out front was looking for him. Immediately he abandoned his conversation with a group of individuals who were both his companions and rivals in school; he ran a gloved hand through his black hair and grinned.

"So, this is it. The top student's the first one to get picked."

"Who says I'm going to get picked?"

The young woman with the pink hair tapped a finger against her lips and quirked a suggestive eyebrow. "We all bet twenty each you'd be the first one to go. I bet fifty you'd get picked on the first night."

"You placed a bet on me?" Many of his classmates chuckled at his mock surprise. The smarter ones merely acknowledge the top student knew about the betting pool all along. The snot was always one for attention. The attitude came with the natural skill.

"Sure did. Fancy you'd steal all the Sky Knights, eh?"

The youth threw his head back and laughed. "No. I only steal the best ones."

### 

The one looking for him - he had pride. Like the new graduates, he was an Academy alumni - but in terms of academics, he topped most of his crew. Not all members studied at the main campus on Terra Atmosia either, both women on board finished their education someplace else. Despite his high recommendation and outstanding innate talent, the young man felt as if someone had thrown him back to his first days of school where everyone was a stranger and not all of them were friendly.

If the lack of smiles were meant to unnerve him it failed. Challenges like these olnly served to boost his confidence more; he'd prove he was worthy to join the ranks of the Storm Hawks. He knew it was a trial run, but he'd showcase his worth and make his Academy nickname stick.

The two men walked along the dock, and as he followed the leader, Jay, he took his first good look at the airship that held the current Atmos speed record, _The Condor._ She was in good shape with very little damage and her exterior was painted with hues of natural brown. As expected, the crew were all older than him; the next in line just turned twenty. Their leader was the odlest, and although the kid was unable to correctly guess his age, his red hair and twinkling eyes made him appear younger than he probably was.

His new home had a double-tiered configuration. The hangar bay was situated between the twin engines on the bottom floor. The upper deck consisted of the cockpit where the pilot was usually found, along with the crew's quarter towards the stern. They had a jogging track. The lower deck had the shower, kitchen and galley, and the engine room. Where did they train? In the hangar bay for hand-to-hand combat or in the sky with their rides.

She was a small ship compared to some of the larger cargo vessels he'd hitched rides on, but serviceable and according to her grinning pilot, extremely flexible. There were seven separate bunks and one of them was his. He was shown his room immediately and given directions towards the toilet. Afterward, Jay motioned to join him on the deck to meet the ship's carrier pilot.

Upon first glance, there was nothing immediately special about them. They were all humans, all looked relatively normal with their matching blue uniforms and squadron crests. He would learn to differentiate his new crew mates by their hair colour and voices - eventually their character. Everyone on board knew a little about everyone else's jobs, but each had his or her own specialty. Now, they were seen people on a single ship.

For some reason he couldn't quite explain, he became the subject focus for _her_. She was a few years older and he hated to be treated like a child, but the woman immediately took it upon herself to make his trial period a good one, two weeks which he hoped to gain their approval and write his name in the ship's logbook as a laster member - in pen. He wondered how many times she had written down other potential candidates, probably formulated nicknames in her head as she penciled in their names and made sure the spelling was correct only to erase them afterward.

The first time he was shown the log book, he made a mental note to check up on it later. This was during his probation period and although he knew the squadron leader would ask him to stay, he wasn't so eager to become companions with the rest of the crew. It wasn't the right time - yet. Like any new place, some things needed some getting used to.

And so the personalities began. And the boy commenced his analysis of the Storm Hawks crew.

He kept a book of his own, a clean journal given to him by his parents during the last summer he spent back in Cyclonia, but bound in treated leather so it was somewhat waterproof. That handy addition hadn't come with the family care package; it was something he had to trade and barter off one of his fellow students back at the Academy for. A small luxury. He knew it was an unusual request since most students asked for something more popular, such as trafficking crystals the instructors forbade them to use - eventually the pages of this unwritten book would be filled up and its purpose used, but it was _his_.

He could write whatever he wanted and nobody would censor him, not like the letters students sent home. He could insert photographs and clippings, and every page inside that book would be a lifetime reminder of what the world was like through his eyes, not someone else's. The habit of writing came naturally, just like all his other talents, and by the time he was in his third month of Academy training, he had mastered it.

What was in that backpack of his when he arrived on _The Condor?_ His journals. Small and compact and discreet, their handcrafted pages carried the secrets of every individual he met in school and in his travels. Appearance, history, occupation - and meaningless trivia. What he wasn't told forthright he gleaned from other people or by intentionally overhearing conversations in the locker room.  
They were his thoughts on the world, his opinions of the known Atmos. And why not? Historians and professors did it all the time. Some of them became equally famous for their writings. So why would a young recruit like him with a different perspective not be entitled to the same privilege?

And he started with _her_ , the first person on board to smile at him. His scribbling was basic at first, but as time stretched along and the months grew, the names of the Storm Hawks appeared in frequency alongside his.

The first night on the ship he flipped open to the first page of the stitched notebook, wrote down the date on the top left-hand corner followed by his intiails.

_Robin._

Her name was plain and honest and like the rest of her at first glance, so was she. Her best friend was an intimidating looking woman, tall with a constant look of cynicism on her face, as if she was ready to throw you against the wall and interrogate you until you peed yourself. Her name was Ibis. The ship's pilot was Pitta, a quiet androgynous guy he easily ignored. The resident doctor was Manakin, a stocky man with golden hair. The last person he met on the team he hardly remembered aside from the fact he had the most hilarious name he'd ever heard - _Hihi._

 _Hihi._ God, what were his parents thinking when they named their kid? And he thought the women's names were odd.

And of course there was the leader. The redhead. The optimist. The Blue Jay.

Time passed easily. He caught on well enough and learned secrets of human nature from watching his companions. Two weeks of hands on-practicum in the engine room and the cockpit. Smirking, he grabbed hold of the steering wheel and maneuvered the ship away from several storms as they passed over Terra Gale, which earned him a jovial pat on the back. The kid had an undisclosed advantage over the other Academy graduates, his hitchhiking experience allowed him to study the interior of various ships. Once or twice in the past, he gained the trust of a small-time pirate who taught him to navigate. He knew the seedy routes like the back of his hand. Jay and the rest of the Storm Hawks could throw anything at him and within the first three attempts he understood the schematics and the routine.

He earned his nickname. _Ace._ (Of course, it had always been his and always will be.)

"Hey, you're a natural." The redheaded leader stated the obvious with a smile on his tanned face, and left him to do his work while he discussed the team's next mission with someone else.

Then two weeks of probation passed and he wasn't sent away. The initiation itself was nothing special despite rumours the Doctor wanted to cover him in tar and blow chicken feathers all over his suit with a fan. As an alternative, they had a party on the main deck to celebrate the last true member of the Storm Hawks.

"True?"

"Yeah kid," the Doctor chided and helped himself to more pecan tarts, courtesy of Terra Mesa. The boy grimaced. He disliked references to his age and very few people were permitted to do that. Hopefully, they'd pick up the hint sooner rather than later. "It took out fearless leader several rounds to find people crazy enough to stick with him, being a Sky Knight these days don't exactly add up to a high paycheck."

At least that part was true. And yet, they presented him with his own sky ride to keep.

Missions were fun and he wished they allowed him to tag along more frequently. Suited up in an official uniform and presented with his own ride, he broke his vehicle in half when a sky pirate came at him from the side and slashed his engine in two. It was an embarrassing defeat for a first-timer in battle and humiliating for someone who was supposed to be the top student at the Academy. He expected the vermin to come at them with some unorthodox fighting techniques, but theory had its loopholes when applied to reality.

As he was falling backwards and just about to deploy his parachute, Robin grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him up so he could sit behind her. This was also the first time he was her without a friendly smile on her features. The muscles in her cheeks were taut as she gritted her teeth.

"First time? You could've kept watch on your sides.

"I didn't expect it." Licking his cracked lips, he considered repaying the favour. "Thanks for saving me."

Her shoulders rose up and down, and he knew despite her disappointment, she was chuckling. Somehow, it made him feel inadequate. "Hey, no problem."

Two months passed. Since that incident, he made an oath to never get caught off-guard again, and he kept to his word. When he wasn't at the cockpit, he was in the hangar bay training with someone, most likely Ibis. And when they weren't on missions and had some extra gas to spare, Jay took him out and tested his skills on their sky rides.

The leader of the Storm Hawks had skill, the black-haired youth admitted; the man could stand on his ride ready for battle and nudge the controls with barely a toe. His balance was impeccable and his sword - damn, that double-bladed sword, sang through the air and sliced metal like butter.

"Where'd you get a thing like that?" he iquited as they parked their vehicles in the hangar. The Sky Knight opened his locker and threw him a towel to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

"Trade secret."

"Who forged it for you? Most weapons don't use the double-blade - it makes the sword too heavy for most people."

"Guess I'm not 'most people'." He opened the door and walked into the galley where he saluted Hihi and Robin who were in the middle of a game of poker. The stakes? Various chores on _The Condor._ The redhead stood behind her, took a look at her cards before stroking his chin and whispered into her ear.

"Get your own goddamn game, Jay." The other man stated monotonously.

"Lighten up. I'm just giving her a few pointers." He took two of her cards and palced it face down on the table, squeezed her shoulder and took a step to the side. He waited.

"No flirting on board, Captain." The man warned automatically although they knew it held no serious threat. This seemed to be standard procedure. Ace watched the exchange like a fly on the wall until the woman caught his attention, glanced at his out of the corner of her eyes, and winked at him.

"The Captain can do whatever he wants because he's the Captain." Jay replied loftily. After several minutes of casual observation, Robin won the hand. The leader of the Storm Hawks didn't even try to conceal his joy. Apparently, her opponent was equally pleased.

"The Captain had just secured this poor man's bet."

The man's eyes widened as the youth's red eyes looked on in amusement. Clearly there was chemistry there, and he had only begun to submerge into each layer of history. On his first day of recruitment, he had to sit down in his bunk and read the entire Sky Knight manual. According to the guidelines, in-house romances were discouraged to prevent potential bitterness amongst those who should act as a family. On the other hand, they were only guidelines and many, if not all squadrons, dropped the rule.

One of the first things he learned on board was to never fully listen to the Sky Council. They were a bunch of old senile fools with good intentions, but at times, blindingly out of touch with the reality of the world. They didn't fly like the rest of them. They gave that up a long time ago.

The new boy never did get the official word on what the bet consisted of, although he had a good guess as to what it consisted off. For some reason, Jay was stuck with garbage duty for the rest of the week. Something about constantly interferring in card games whenever a certain woman was involved.

And suddenly, _The Condor_ felt like home.


	2. reading your names

  
_Here was the place I chose to stand_  
 _Just when I think I'm going under_  
 _I... remain._ (Brian Eno, "Under")  


  
Robin was ecstatic beyond control when she heard Jay finally gave him an official position on the team. The Sky Knight beckoned him this morning when the boy was doings chores in the hangar bay, scrubbing and mopping up the explosive remains of a mouldy melon from last night. The guys must have been extremely bored and decided to raid the garbage bins for something gross and sticky and extremely amusing. Well, going to bed after several bottles of beer and leaving the mess to the new guy wasn't so amusing to the Academy graduate. 

"Ace." The Sky Knight signalled to him.

"Yeah?" He dropped the rag he was using into the soapy bucket on the floor and thought twice about wiping his hands on his blue flight suit.

"Come with me."

He had gotten used to hearing his name called out repeatedly by the rest of the Storm Hawks. It happened often. Whether it was part of a strange and subvert initiation process to test his patience or they were just lazy, he was always in demand by one of the crew members; at least, during the day.

Most of the time he spent in the cockpit with _The Condor's_ pilot, Pitta. The first few time they were alone it was awkward. He wasn't the type to open up and start a conversation unless it was to extract information for his journal, and Pitta was content to sit back and give him a turn at the helm.

Some members of the team needed him more than others, such as Jay and Ibis. When he wasn't steering the airship or doing chores around the deck, he was training in the hangar bay or in the sky. They didn't carry swords. They had no double-blades similar to their Sky Knight's, but used quarterstaves both as their offense and defense.

It was practical, the warrior woman reasoned, to learn how to use the equipment effectively. Once upon a time, before the Atmos became a world of rivets and crystals, the people made weapons out of the trees. Quarterstaves used to be made out of oak or hawthorne trees. These days, all weapons were made out of lightweight metal - the ends of their weapons were specially capped with a contraption to hold various crystals for additional power.

His days at the Academy taught him how to ride a bike both on ground and in the air, but for all their technique, they didn't teach him how to fight realistically. He knew the formations, how they looked from one standing on the ground or up in the air, and he knew how to flow from one pattern into the next, but the sky was a much bigger space than the self-contained playing grounds of school.

"Pull up!" His leader commanded. His voice was stern as he yanked on the controls and executed a backwards somersalt spontaneously as if he had just decided to take a breath. He followed suit and ended up a little wobbly once his vestibular system readjusted to the quick change.

It was different and he liked it. Here, there were no instructors who were concerned with the health and safety risks of their students; he was part of a squadron now. Injury was imminent but preventable, and as new as he was, he felt the exhilaration of going into battle knowing he was doing something of value. He was protecting people.

They were well into their third hour of training when Jay called him back to _The Condor_ for a break. They would be continuing in the afternoon. It was his third month following recruitment, and the past two weeks had been slow. Not that he wanted the skies to be filled with sky pirates and bounty hunters, but he wanted to know what was happening with the world outside of the airshp. They traveled from place to place, he notived, unlike other squadrons who remained close to their terras of origin. Once he asked his captain about this anomaly and Jay turned his face down at the boy with a silencing look. He didn't mention it again.

It was lunchtime. The good doctor also happened to be their regular cook and prepared carefully crafted meals for the team to consume. Truth be told, he was getting sick of chicken salad and longed for something less healthy and juicier, like spaghetti and meatballs or saucy barbecued hamburgers.

Many of them didn't bother cleaning up for mealtimes. They came in from whereever they worked from, although the cook would make sure everyone at least had clean hands and faces and stressed the importance of rolling up their sleeves lest bacteria gather on their plates.

"Give it a rest, Manny," one of the women groaned. She pressed a hand to her forehead to emphasize her tiredness from the constant nagging.

"Where's Robin?"

"In the engine room," was Ibis' automatic reply. Sure enough, the woman in question appeared with her auburn hair tied back from her head. Her greasy monkey suit was zipped down to the waist and wrapped around her middle.

"How's the hot water tank?" Jay inquired and monioned for her to sit at the table. Noticing there weren't enough seats, she made a motion to grab the missing chair from the adjacent galley but the redhead offered up his position in lieu of the extra work. As he disappeared into the other room and clattered about searching for the seventh chair, Robin sat down next to Ace and sighed.

"We're gonna need new engine crystals for the gas burger. And better ones this time. The last batch was starting to burn a hold through the electrical crystal unit." Here she raised the volume of her voice to make sure a certain captain would hear.

"We need higher grade engine crystals if everyone's going to keep taking showers in the morning!"

"I heard!"

Talk at the table ranged from delegating household chores to what they heard on the radio. A lot of in-house complaints came from Manakin and Ibis, who sometimes sat beside each other five days in a row, then ignored the other person's presence for the following three consecutively.

By this time he knew where each of his teammates had studied and which Sky Knight Academy they graduated from. Most of them came from the northern quadrants, with the exception of Hihi who hailed from the southwest. Many of them did not know each other until they met their future leader and heard his proposal to form a new squadron to replace the one his home terra had lost. All he had to offer was an outdated license and his grandfather's airship, _The Condor._

"What made you join?"

"Adventure," admitted the pilot. "Definately not the pay, not the way the Sky Council kept cutting back on our salaries twice during the first year I was here."

Thus began the Storm Hawks, a new team of graduates from differing years. They were lucky enough to find each other in a breaking world where everyone was accusing everyone else of skimping on supplies and money. It was normal to meet up with a fellow squadron and discover someone was replaced. Unhappy graduates left for something better and left pubic service for private hire. 

The boiling ground underneath the skyline was acting up again, and citizens were worried another natural disaster like the earthquake from seven years ago would come to pass once more. Less terras were drifting apart, perhaps due to the crystal advancements from Cyclonia to ensure the Atmos remained together. It was technology Master Cyclonis shared, but there were some groups hwo accused him of conspiring against other lands. Did he knew large quantities of crystals helped secure a terra's geographical location? How long had he kept this knowledgge? He was hoarding the mines for himself.

Back at home, the Storm Hawks tried not to talk about politics too much since Jay told them their youngest and newest recruit was born Cyclonian. Not that it mattered, he reassured them, he was a good kid and Jay was a good juddge of character.

"You have family back at home?" inquired the doctor.

"My mother and my father."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"I'm an only child."

Manny chuckled and let out a silent bark of amusement. With the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, he leaned back in his chair with the remains of raspberry vinaigrette on his plate. He inhaled deeply though his nose and pursed his mouth into a ring. The mannerism almost made the boy wonder if he had been a chain smoker before becoming a doctor. He certainly didn't smoke now.

"I've got a cousin who moved there just recently. Says it isn't as bad as everyone thinks it is."

"It isn't."

"I know," he continued. "But my aunt and uncle weren't too proud of her for moving away. Neither was my mom."

Afternoon came and went. Jay promoted him and once they were back on the solid floor of _The Condor_ they went straight to the engine room and told the mechanic about Ace's new position as co-pilot. The squealing hurt his ears. She hastily wiped her greasy hands on an oily rag and stalked them all the way down the main galley with mirth twinkling in her green eyes. When the Sky Knight excused himself and headed for the bathroom the woman threw her arms up in the air and tackled him in a well-meaning hug. The boy looked down at his suit and knew he'd have to wash it right away.

He was used to her antics by now, but it was still embarrassing. Robin was one of the few individuals who could get away with this only because she was harmless. However, he still needed his dignity and was slowly suffocating under her small but tight hold. Before any of the other crew members saw them together and decided to take a potshot at his expense, he wiggled his shoulders and they broke apart.

"I'm so proud of you!" she squealed. She raised her hands to her face and marked her cheeks black. "I just knew you would get the job!"

"You know I would be co-pilot?"

"Oh, that's not what I meant! Congratulations!"

He meant to write to his family that night and tell them the good news; however, he was detained from his usual evening routine when they were all called to the cockpit for some celebration time in the form of white pound cake and some fresh fruit. No alcohol for this party, they reasoned. Although he was of age, they still thought the new co-pilot was too young to experience the emotional disaster of getting smashed.

They celebrated every chance they got, no matter how small. It was a way to forget about all the financial and political trouble. He was already initiated as a member and now they were celebrating such a small promotion. It was the equivalent of presenting the squadron with a new type of quarterstaff. The reality of life as a Storm Hawk struck him, and it almost hurt.

Time after six o'clock indicated the start of the night shift. Since they usually flew in the daytime, they had the natural light of the sky to illuminate the rooms of _The Condor_ to conserve energy and minimize crystal usage. But when the sun set the carrier pilot docked the ship at the closest available terra and turned on the lights. Without the sun to shine through the windows, most areas of the ship were submerged in darkness save for the small red lights that outlined the bridge and the doorways. Home became a different world altogether, and the bright pastel colours flipped over like the opposite side of a pillow and became softer, darker, and silent.

Gathered around the table with all the lights turned down low, the silence surrounded them like a bubble where all conversatio bounced off each person as if they were a wall.

Pitta caught his eye and with a face with his index finger, he tapped the box underneath the pilot's seat.

"They say you're too young - I think you're mature enough to know when to stop. Do you want one?"

"No."

"Your loss." Shrugging his shoulders, he snapped open the latch and grabbed the neck of a green bottle; discreetly hid it within the folds of his black vest.

"Is that a cooler under there?"

"Don't tell anyone about it, alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

### 

He learned the secrets of human nature from watching his companions. There was no doubt which individual was the quiet one, who liked to stay up at night to watch the stars while the rest of the squadron snored away in their bunks. _The Condor_ became more of a home to him than any other place had, more than the Academy, more than Cyclonia.

The Sky Knight made them jump from terra to terra, always searching for a place to go and a new mission to complete. While he knew the layout of the underground trade, his leader knew the connections between squadrons and could pinpoint which terras held the most influence over the Sky Council. One of their favourite visiting spots was Terra Rex, homeland of the Rex Guardians. One of his best school mates from long ago was stationed there.

Everyone on board had family somewhere. They had parents, brothers and sisters, close friends - but none of them had children or lasting partners. It was a hard subject to address, to be a team with no land to call their own, and therefore no place to settle. They might even be called exiles. However, he wasn't surprised during the party when Ibis and the Doctor disappeared together. Ace raised an inquiring eyebrow and the carrier pilot shrugged and told him to let it go. Everyone dealt with the situation in their owy way, and sometimes it was better to turn a blind eye to whatever happened behind closed doors.

On some nights he didn't sleep as well as the others, but he was always the early riser. When they docked as guests on another terra, he felt safer on this ship than sleeping in some strange room. He knew it was all about the network, the mesh of fabric that held the people of Atmos together. The Sky Knights were more than just protectors; they were upholders of the law. They established the familiar relations between the government and the public that would otherwise been left to spoil. He was a mediator.

History can be dry. Historians tacked on the names and palces that shooked up the foundation of the known world. They wrote what they thought was better for everyone. Victory dictated history. Words in a textbook easily became just as important as scripture. Back in the Academy, he meorized all the subsequent Sky Council policies implemented to secure the economic security of the Atmos. He also noticed there was no mention of aid for Cyclonia. Not in the past several years. The books said that Master Cyclonis refused their aid.

That part was true. But wasn't true was the voice of authority inside his head that drilled him to memorize glorify events of Atmosian history. Cyclonia was important too. His first years at the Academy hammered the clear disadvantages of Terra Cyclonia. The monarchy was outdated and primitive. No one needed a king anymore. The people were backwards. The people had to change.

Little things like that; little cracks in the books lifted off the paper and entered the unknowing heart. Up until now, he had been a closet Cyclonian and referenced his land of birth only in times of requirement. He knew this peace wouldn't last for long.

### 

There were too many voices in the hallway. They whispered in urgent tones to make sure no one else heard.

One morning it sounded like Hihi and the carrier pilot. They discussed something they read in the newspaper they picked up on Terra Pax during their stay with the Interceptors. Crystal prices were rising again and they've have to cut down on _something_ in order to maintain the shipment of engine crystals Robin needed to keep the ship running adequately. Next week it was Ibis' new lover who made clandestine visits in the night, but failed to completely smother the squeaking and the groaning that came through the walls at four in the morning. Everyone pretended they slept right through the hour-long sessions, but the bags under their eyes said otherwise.

And there was shouting. Mainly in the gray area between romance and sex and what every squadron should follow according to the Guidebook but no one paid attention to. Ibis never kept them for long, it wasn't in her nature, but it was always one person she went back to despite his obvious hate for her that morning. 

He never asked her; never spoke about his conflicted feelings. She owed him nothing. He had his own demons to contend with and wished he could give her what she wanted. No one was good enough for her, including himself.

The longer he stayed, the more he noticed the separation between friends. He felt invisible and noticeable when the calendar crept closer to holidays and various team members took their sky rides. They left for a day or two only to return with their saddlebags full of presents and supplies. Ace never went home - it wasn't for the lack of a passport but for the potential blemish that might char his image amonst the crew. Instead he wrote letters and took pictures; photographs either taken by Robin or Jay to showcase how much the Cyclonian-born son had grown. He was an experienced traveler, a hard worker, and a good kid.

Six months as a Storm Hawk he got into a fight with the carrier pilot of another squadron whom he graduated with back at the Academy. The boy was angry, looking for blood, and screamed at Ace for the loss of his older sister. A public airshop was shot down by sky pirates within Cyclonian territory and the Talons did nothing but watch. Inhumane bastards. They only looked after their own people.

A bloodied nose and multiple lacerations later, the Rebel Duck conceded defeat and lay on the dirt, weeping. The captains of both squadrons appeared a little too late with their companies in tow and separated the boys. Ace had not planned to hurt his former classmate any further, but he was out of control and kept throwing insults. The boy had gotten violent first.

Back in the kitchen, Ibis told him to sit down and stay still. Physically he was going to be fine. A little roughed up, but the Rebel Duck came off worse after the fight. The boy's captain was going to put him under close supervision for the next while and monitor his emotional stability that came with unbridled grief. 

Watching Ace's facial expressions carefully, she placed some ice cubes in a slightly damp washcloth and handed it to him. With her olive complexion and dark hair; the bruises on his skin seemed to match her natural tones. The blood on his hands wasn't all his. 

"Hey, it's not your fault."

"I know it's not my fault," he retorted and grabbed a handful of his pants just above the knee. He was so angry. Maybe even furious. He told her he wanted to cause further harm.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. He sobered, suddenly ashamed in her presence. But the flame still burned inside.

"Don't do that again."

"I won't."

She went him to see the resident doctor. He went to his bunk instead.

### 

(But not all the memories were bad. _She_ made life feel simpler.)

Robin lied down on the couch, grabbed a seat cushion and used it as a pillow as she curled her lips underneath her. He noticed she did that often, walked around on deck with her face and arms spotted with grease and used the furniture as if she were in her own room. Well, it wasn't. They were in the galley and she watched him with a rather amused smile on her rosy face.

"Are you happy here?"

"I guess."

She laughed and said that wasn't a real answer. From the moment she first smiled at him, he knew she took an immediate liking to his character. It made him feel like a novelty toy, something others could play with. Later she admitted it was the combination of his boyishness melded with his advanced maturity that made him rather attractive.

He wasn't quite sure how to take that.

"How old are you now? I'm thinking seventeen... eighteen?" Keeping track of ages wasn't her forte, she treated people as friends regardless of age, but she was all right with numbers. She wasn't a navigator, but she was the easiest to get along with.

He set his water glass down on the table. He rested his elbows on his knees and positioned his body so the light from the windows fell over his jet black hair, casting half of his face in shadow.

"Eighteen."

She squinted when she laughed.

"I was always bad at this kind of thing."

"Don't worry about it," Ace teased her. "People are mistake you for my little sister all the time."

He raised an eyebrow when his conversation partner spluttered from the jab, whipped out the cushion underneath her head and chucked it at him. 

"Hey!" He threw it back at her.

"Jerk," she said with a smile on her face.

Jay was right, it was easy to get a rise out of her. Grinning, he turned the question on her. "Say, and how old are you?"

Settling back down, she reclined on the couch and pretended to take a nap, ignoring him. The adult kid fulfilling the role of the older sibling. Robin had a twin sister back home - and yes, she was older. He was aware she hailed from Terra Edmontonia.

"Guess."

Ha, trying to snare him with a trick question. Too bad, Robin, he's already got the card up sleeve. He already knew her age, Ibis told him. But that wasn't the point here, he liked being around her, things tended to light up in her presence.

"You act like you're fifteen," he noticed Robin giving him a look, "but you look twenty-seven. I don't think you're my age. How about twenty-three?" 

Laughter filled up the empty living room. It was unusually clean for the home movie Jay planned for tonight. He took Robin's vocal answer as a sign she was enjoying herself, nevermind she didn't know he was leading her on.

"Twenty-two," she corrected.

"You're old," Ace laughed.

"Pfft, not compared to our fearless leader."

"So, how old is he?"

She smiled. "Guess."

### 

When Ace was fifteen he hitched a ride back to Cyclonia on a cargo ship carrying livestock and became well acquainted with the cows and chickens for the farms. It was emotionally painful to fly back home because he knew how much his parents looked forward to seeing him. 

As an only child, they gave him the best present he could have wished for - a chance to join a squadron. They didn't ask how he got home or when his next visit would be, but allowed him the freedom he needed. He realized it was their way of showing affection but that didn't stop their worrying. Some people hated Cyclonians no matter how educated or successful they were. Ace made sure to take good care of himself at school.

"You're grandfather's sick."

"How is he?"

"Not good. We're going to visit him tomorrow at the hospital."

The retired officer looked sickly and pale in the bed, but his inner spirit remained the same. After the greetings and the well wishes, the older man requested to speak alone to his sole grandchild while his son and daughter-in-law remained outside. Ace wasn't afraid of dying, he knew he had to conquer the fear of death if he wanted to graduate from the Academy and become a Sky Knight, but it was disease and sickness he abhorred. One couldn't fight a battle against yourself - in his eyes, it was the biggest betrayal of all. He couldn't imagien having one's immune system turn on you.

"How are you, Ace?" His grandfather had christened him with that nickname, said his grandmother had been blessed with some kind of seeing gift. She had passed several years before, and always looked upon her grandson with a secret smile on her face. She knew he was capable of great things. 

Ace never asked about her gifts; in hindsight, he wish he had.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Tired."

A few more beats to allow the elderly man a breath of oxygenated air, and he spoke about the Sky Council. It was an honour to be knighted, to have that responsibility and respect on your shoudlers. One day Ace would travel the world, no doubt he was starting to now, but gave a word to the wise. 

Trust no one but a Cyclonian. It all came down to blood; he revealed to his grandson, it was all about the history between their people. Compared to the young ideals of the free Atmos, a Cyclonian was royalty. There was a reason the monarchy held on for so long.

When the holidays were almost over and the new semester approached, his parents opened another secret; he was supposed to have a younger sister. His mother was pregnant one year after he was born, but there were complications and she lost the fetus in less than five months. It was hard, but expected. Miscarriages were commonplace considering the air quality in Cyclonia failed in comparison to the general Atmos. It was the biological accumilation of generations who partook in crystal mining. It was the lava flows underneath the terra. But despite all adversity, they survived.

That night when he went to bed, he took out his book on Ornithology. With a fresh solaris crystal inserted into the table lamp, he stayed at his desk and absorbed the pages, studied and memorized the life cycle of different species. Some of them were endangered while others were extinct.

He wondered what his sister's name might ahve been had she survived.


End file.
